


AU Drabbles

by loopyhoopyfrood



Category: Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Bodyguard, Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, Alternate Universe - Pirate, Crossover, F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Sharing a Bed, shadowhunters au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-03
Updated: 2018-12-09
Packaged: 2019-05-01 15:25:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 2,177
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14523594
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/loopyhoopyfrood/pseuds/loopyhoopyfrood
Summary: A collection of AU Phrack drabbles, originally written for 30 Days, 30 AUs. They can all be found on my tumblr (loopyhoopydrabbles), but I thought I'd share the best ones here.





	1. Faking Dating AU

“Phryne?”

“Yes?”

“Why do I have a telegram congratulating Mr and Mrs Fisher-Robinson on our recent marriage?”

Phryne looked up from her morning paper as she nibbled delicately on a slice of toast, greeting Jack’s question with an innocent smile. Jack was far from fooled.

“Oh excellent, Winnie must have gotten my letter.”

“Winnie?”

“Really, Jack?” Phryne said with a roll of her eyes, leaning over to swipe Jack’s last slice of toast from his plate. “Winifred Lock, I wrote to her last week whilst sending those letters to Dot and Aunt P. Her husband owns that hotel and spa we’re visiting next week.”

“The one who thinks his staff are stealing from him?” Jack replied, the furrow in his brow loosening as the details came back to him.

“Exactly.”

“Right.”

Jack turned back to his breakfast, glaring at his empty plate before realising that Phryne hadn’t actually answered his original question.

“And why does she think we’re married again?” He said, settling for tea in lieu of his missing toast.

“It’s part of our cover, do keep up Jack.”

“Why do we need to go undercover to visit a spa?”

“We don’t,” Phryne said, sending a flirtatious wink across the table, “But being married has certain… perks when it comes to hotel stays.”

Jack couldn’t help but smile, shaking his head in amusement even as he fought down a blush.

“I appreciate the effort Miss Fisher, but I think there might have been a slight… mix-up.”

“Oh?”

“This telegram isn’t from Mrs Lock.”

“It’s not?”

Phryne frowned, turning to delve through her own pile of mail, only for Jack’s next words to send all thoughts of Winifred and spas flying from her mind.

“No. It’s from your Aunt Prudence.”


	2. Hogwarts AU

“…passes to MacMillan, who ducks under Yates, and it looks- yes, she shoots! Can Johnson- ? He gets a glove to it but it’s not quite enough, MacMillan scores! Ravenclaw now lead forty points to ten.”

High above the pitch, Mac grins, punching the air as she prepares to defend. The stands below have erupted, a mob of blue and gold, interspersed with the occasional red or green, hollering and whooping as they celebrate her goal. She waves down at her housemates, sparing a glance for the subdued Hufflepuff stands where she knows her best friend is seated. She doesn’t have time to linger however, as it’s only seconds before the whistle is being blown and Mac is darting back towards the quaffle.

“Shouldn’t you be cheering?”

Amongst the mass of yellow and black, Phryne turns to Jack with a well-perfected look of mock outrage.

“Jack! I thought I’d made it perfectly clear where my allegiance lies?”

Jack hums non-committedly, not taking his eyes off her as the Hufflepuff crowd suddenly surge to their feet, screaming and cheering at whatever’s happening on pitch.

“I think I might need further convincing.”

Ignoring the commotion, Jack slowly reaches up and, without breaking her gaze, loosens the scarf from around his neck. Phryne’s breath catches in her throat as he gently loops it around her own, hiding her green and silver tie under the soft yellow and black. A great cheer rises from around them, and Phryne expects Jack to let go and return his attention to the game. Instead he lets his hands linger, tightening his grip in the wool, and Phryne realises that, slowly, he’s pulling her closer, and she finds herself tilting her head as he closes the distance.

“…and Johnson scores! A surprising but perfectly executed shot from the Hufflepuff keeper there, narrowing the score to forty points to twenty…”

The Hufflepuff stands explode, letting loose a deafening roar of triumph as scarves and ties are thrown into the air to rain down over the crowd. Phryne barely notices, too caught up in the softness of a Hufflepuff scarf around her neck and the taste of Jack’s lips on hers.


	3. Bodyguard AU

“Where do you think you’re going, Miss Fisher?”

Halfway through the window, Phryne paused, meeting Jack’s stern gaze with a grin.

“Well I can hardly solve a murder from in here now, can I?”

“You’re a witness.” Jack replied firmly, unmoved, “It’s the police’s job to solve this, not yours. Your job is to stay safe. Inside.”

“But I know who did it!” Phryne argued, not moving from her precarious position on the narrow window ledge, “If I can just-”

“If you have information pertinent to this case, Miss Fisher,” Jack said, certain he’d locked that window earlier, “You can tell me, and I’ll ensure it reaches those who are actually responsible for this investigation.”

“Where’s the fun in that?”

Phryne was still grinning, and Jack knew without a shred of doubt what she was about to do. She wouldn’t be the first person to try and escape witness protection, but most tried to run because they were scared, or cocky, or missing their family. She’d be the first to run _towards_ the murderer he was trying to keep her safe from.

“You’re making my job very difficult.” He said, resigning himself to the fact there’s only one way she’d be getting off that ledge, and it wouldn’t be forwards. “I can hardly protect you if you insist on sneaking out without me.”

“Well then,” She replied, just before leaping gracefully from the ledge, “You’ll just have to come with me, won’t you?”


	4. Pirates AU

“You know I have to take you in.”

“You can try.”

The moon is hiding, and Phryne is nothing but a silhouette as she stands on the end of the landing. The dim light from the lamps aboard her vessel is the only witness to their showdown, and it lingers on the metal barrel of Jack’s pistol as he points it at her heart.

“My ship is leaving with or without me.” Her silhouette says, “But I’d much rather it be with.”

“Don’t make this difficult.” Jack replies, “We’ll catch you soon enough, and the governor will go easier on you and your crew if you come quietly.”

“We never do anything quietly, Admiral.” She says, and what should have been a joke sounds almost like a threat as she raises her head. “I’ve resigned myself to my capture, but if I can catch _The Rose of Triumph_ first I’ll walk to the noose with my head held high.”

Even though he’s the one pointing a gun at her, to hear the great Captain Fisher accept death so willingly shakes Jack to his core. It’s a moment before he can speak, and when he does he’s all too aware of just how much it sounds like begging.

“If you hand yourself in,” He says, “They’ll spare you the death penalty.”

“If I hand myself in,” She replies, “Then Fletcher gets away, and the forty-three innocent girls he has stowed away on his ship get sold into slavery.”

With that she turns, walking slowly towards the gangplank of her ship as if she expects to at any moment feel the sting of a bullet as it passes through her ribs. Jack knows that he should shoot her, that if he were anyone else the pirate captain would have been nothing but a crumpled form on the ground the moment she’d turned her back, but his finger refuses to pull the trigger.

“I might be a pirate,” She says, so quite he barely makes out the words, “But that man is a monster.”


	5. University AU

The first hint Jack got that something wasn’t quite right was the large, designer brand suitcase spilling mountains of dresses and heels onto one of the beds. The second was the voice that greeting him as he tried to enter the dorm’s on-suite.

“This bathroom’s fully occupied!”

“I don’t think you’re supposed to be in here.” Jack said, “Open up.”

There was a pause, before the bathroom door swung open to reveal the intruder; a dark-haired woman in a stylish pink summer dress who looked Jack up and down unabashedly as she waited to hear what the problem was.

“Jack Robinson.” Jack said, introducing himself, “And you’re not Hugh Collins, I take it?”

“Not in the slightest.” Agreed the woman, holding out a hand. “Phryne Fisher.”

“Right.” Said Jack, shaking the offered hand as he wondered who on earth called their child _Phryne_ these days. “Can I ask what you’re doing in my room?”

“ _Your_ room, Jack?” Phryne asks, and Jack blinks in surprise.

“According to my welcome email, yes.” He says, pulling out his phone, “Jack Robinson and Hugh Collins, room G306.”

“Interesting.” Says Phryne, pulling out her own phone, “Because according to _my_ welcome email G306 belongs to a lovely young lady called Dorothy Williams and one fabulous Phryne Fisher.”

“Great.” Jack groans. “Who do we need to see to get this sorted out?”

“What’s to sort Jack?” Phryne says, batting her eyelashes in a way Jack didn’t realise people did outside of movies, “That bed’s plenty big enough for two.”

“Not with your wardrobe all over it, it isn’t.” Jack retorts, and Phryne laughs, darting over to slip an arm through his and pull him out of the dorm. Jack lets her, but when they open the door to find a small, crying blonde girl and an awkwardly rambling boy with no shoes blocking their exit, Jack can’t help but wonder if Phryne would have been that bad of a roommate after all.


	6. Bed Sharing

When Phryne had arrived at the hotel, discovered the mix-up with their rooms, eventually succeeded in dragging Jack upstairs anyway, and swung open the door to dramatically reveal the large, solitary, bed, she’d had plans. Plans that did not include waking up in the early hours of the morning to discover that Jack had stolen all the covers.

Groaning, still half asleep, she fumbled around until she found a piece of blanket and tugged it back towards her. The blanket refused to move. Unwilling to wake Jack despite his thievery, she tugged harder, but the covers still refused to yield. Reluctantly, Phryne rolled over, opening her eyes to squint at Jack, who’s form she could just make out in the dimly lit room.

No wonder the covers hadn’t moved. Jack hadn’t just stolen them, he’d apparently decided to hold them hostage, tucking either edge firmly underneath him. The bottom of the sheet was tucked under his feet, and the top clenched firmly in his fists as it covered all but the very top of his head. It would have been cute, if Phryne hadn’t been freezing.

Phryne gave one more experimental tug, firmer this time as she decided waking Jack would be worth it if it meant she got her blanket back. She didn’t, in fact she would have sworn Jack just clenched it tighter, as if even in slumber he was determined to thwart her. Too cold to battle much longer, Phryne resigned herself to getting up, muttering curses under her breath as she stumbled across the room to grab a spare sheet from the wardrobe.

It turned out bed sharing wasn’t as fun as she thought it would be.


	7. Crossover AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A brief crossover with Shadowhunters, in which Jack is a mundane, Phryne is a warlock, and Rosie is a shadowhunter.

Jack had always been warned that warlocks were dangerous.

It was one of those unbelievable truths that had somehow become just an ordinary part of his everyday life. The sky was blue, the coffee at the station was terrible, the strawberry plants in his garden never flowered, and warlocks were dangerous creatures who should be avoided at all cost.

He still wasn’t quite sure when all this had become normal. Knowledge of the downworld was one of the side effects of having a shadowhunter for a wife, or ex-wife, although he suspected his position on the force was the only reason he’d been allowed to keep those memories. He’d become all too good at concocting mundane excuses for downworlder crime, and far too alright with pretending he didn’t know what the Clave were doing to those they took into custody.

His worldview had expanded, and he wasn’t sure he liked it. There were many days when he found himself thinking back fondly on his ignorance, when he didn’t know that the man who delivered his morning paper was a werewolf, or that the abandoned warehouse on the docks housed a family of vampires, or that his ex-wife spent her nights walking the streets and killing demons.

And yet, there were days when he couldn't bring himself to mind all that much. Days when his empty cup magically refilled itself with piping hot tea, when his clothes magically folded themselves into drawers, or when a flash of purple sparks diverted the bullet that was heading for his constable’s heart. Days when he stepped through a glowing portal to spend a weekend in London, or Paris, or even just Sydney, knowing that they’d be back in time for his next case. Days when her glamour slipped, control lost in the throes of his affections, and the beauty of her true form almost stopped his heart.

Rosie had always warned him that warlocks were dangerous.

He wondered what she’d say if she knew he’d fallen in love with one.


End file.
